


Alcohol, Blackjack, and the World's Worst Strip Tease

by CosmicMind



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Alcohol, Attempted Seduction, Drunkenness, Friendship, M/M, Strip Tease, Stripping, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-29 23:46:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17817818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CosmicMind/pseuds/CosmicMind
Summary: A very, very drunk Soldier attempts to seduce his boyfriend during Saturday night hangouts in the rec room.(For Boots & Bombs Week 2019 Day 3: Alcohol)





	Alcohol, Blackjack, and the World's Worst Strip Tease

Once upon a time, in a far-off base in the middle of nowhere, Soldier challenged Heavy to a drinking contest. After losing to an arm-wrestling match with the large Russian man, he demanded to get his honor back, despite everyone telling him it was a bad idea.

 

Thus, to the surprise of absolutely nobody, Soldier lost badly.

 

“I d-demand a remash!” Soldier slurred, jumping up from his seat at the card table and pointing a finger in Heavy’s general direction as he swayed, “You chu _-cheated_.”

 

“Did not cheat,” Heavy said simply, shrugging as his cheeks were barely pink by now, as opposed to Soldier’s very red face, “You say I can pick drink, and I did.”

 

“I want _American_ beer!” Soldier snapped, followed by a hiccup, “Not that Russian shhhhit.”

 

Heavy rolled his eyes and stood up to re-join Medic on one of the two beat-up couches, who gave him a peck on his bald head as congratulations. Demoman sighed and stood up from where he sat on the other couch next to Engineer. He figured he’d be stuck with cleanup when Soldier eventually lost- the perks of being the designated boyfriend. He careful came up behind Soldier and put a hand on his back, to which the drunk man spun around in his confusion.

 

“Come on, Jane,” Demoman ushered as he began to guide both of them back to the sofa. Soldier nodded and clutched onto Demoman as he was guided to the plush seating.

 

Engineer got up as soon as Soldier collapsed down. “You can sit here with yer man, Demo,” he offered, “The snake still owes me another game of blackjack.”

 

Spy, who had been sitting in the arm chair near the window reading a novel, gave a sly grin. He followed Engineer back to the table, who was then joined by Sniper and Scout just to watch the action. Demoman shook his head; seemed like everyone who wore a helmet here tonight was a sore loser. He focused his attention back on Soldier.

 

“Ye wanna stay here fer a bit?” he asked with only a slight chance he’d get a legitimate response.

 

“Yuh,” Soldier grumbled, lolling his head to the side as he rested against the back of the couch. He may or may not have even understood the question. Well, it was a good enough answer for now. Demoman would let him sit for a while before tucking him into bed; besides, he wanted to see the outcome of the game.

 

“Do you still have zhe stomach medication and painkillers I gave you at zhe beginning of zhe month?” Medic asked from the opposite side of the room, “He’ll need it.”

 

“Ah, yeah,” Demoman replied with a nod.

 

“I’m surprised you’re not drinking tonight,” Medic commented, tipping his own beer bottle in Demoman’s direction for a gesture, “You usually love drinking on Saturdays- vell, any day, for zhat matter.”

 

Demoman awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. “Been cuttin’ back, doc, ye knew that already.”

 

“Ah, zhat’s right. It does seem to be helping your performance, I’ll admit.”

 

“Besides, I dinnae wannae leave Jane in the hands of one of you blokes after tonight. He can be a bit… much.”

 

“Yes, he is a lot,” Heavy added, “But is good you are there for him. Very mature.”

 

“Thanks, big guy,” Demoman said, nodding with a flash of a smile, “Congrats on yer victory.”

 

“Was not difficult,” Heavy gloated, chuckling, “But, did not expect Soldier to last so long. Tell him he did good in morning when mind is clear.”

 

Speaking of Soldier, Demoman just now noticed he had pressed up against Demoman’s arm, snuggling his face into the sleeve. Demoman shook his head with a smile and lifted his arm up so Soldier could cuddle into his torso. Despite his drunken state, Soldier still knew where his affections lied, and took Demoman up on the offer.

 

“Cozy?” Demoman asked. He heard Soldier give an incoherent slurred of a response, but it sounded positive enough. Demoman patted the top of Soldier’s helmet, wishing Soldier could have chosen to keep it off tonight so he could run his fingers through Soldier’s chestnut hair. “Yer like a little kitty, curlin’ up at me side. When’d ye get so affectionate?”

 

“Ah love you,” Soldier murmured happily, snaking his arms around Demoman and scooting up to rest his head on Demoman’s shoulder.

 

Demoman felt so happy right now he could cry. This was such a rare occurrence for Soldier to be so unapologetically physically affectionate that he wanted to savor every moment. They sat together in comfortable silence for a while as Demoman listened to the intense card game nearby.

 

Without prior warning, Soldier suddenly got out of Demoman’s grip after about ten minutes. Demoman raised an eyebrow and held Soldier’s arm in case he tried walking again.

 

“Somethin’ wrong, luv?” he asked.

 

“’m hot,” Soldier replied quietly. His shaky hands went for his shirt buttons, but quickly became frustrated when he could barely grip the tiny things. Demoman shot a worried look at Heavy and Medic, but Medic was the only one who noticed immediately.

 

“Help him, _dummkopf_ ,” Medic said.

 

“Ye sure it’s not gunnae be awkward?” Demoman said, motioning to the full room, “Strippin’ in front ‘a everyone?”

 

“It’s just his shirt. Ve are all men here.”

 

“Yeah, I guess yer right,” Demoman admitted. It was a particularly sticky and hot night, and the AC in the base wasn’t the best. He guided Soldier’s hands away from his chest and helped him peel out of his red uniform shirt, tossing it at the opposite end of the couch when he was done. Soldier awkwardly groped his newly exposed skin around his undershirt in some kind of relief from the sweaty confines. “There, that feels better, don’ it?”

 

“Mmm-hmm,” Soldier muttered, then giving a slightly goofy, yet still genuine (albeit a drunk form of genuine), smile at Demoman, “I love you Tavish… y’know that? Yer my beeeest friend.”

 

“I know, Jane,” Demoman agreed, pecking Soldier on the cheek, “I luv ye, too.”

 

“Yer damn pretty,” Soldier said bluntly, laughing to himself and trying to mimic what Demoman just did to him. However, instead of a light peck, he practically licked the side of Demoman’s face along his beard. Medic chuckled from across the way, and Demoman cleared his throat.

 

“I know,” Demoman repeated, “Thank ye, Jane.”

 

“I love you… so fucking mush,” Soldier slurred, breaking away from the contact with Demoman to stand up for real this time. Instinctively, Demoman was ready to leap to his feet to catch Soldier’s fall, but Soldier managed to stabilize himself. Demoman clutched his chest and was about to say something about Soldier scaring him like that, but a shaky finger was pressed to his lips.

 

“Shhhhh,” Soldier commanded, trying to grin, “Be quiet, son.”

 

Demoman gulped as Soldier removed his helmet and plopped it on Demoman’s lap, now showing the full extent of his red face and glassy eyes. Soldier gave a grin and began to sway in a very peculiar way, different than his earlier drunken stagger. Like he was dancing very off-beat to the radio playing rock music softly in the corner of the room.

 

Oh no. _Oh no_.

 

The realization came as Soldier was just now struggling to get untangled from his under shirt in front of Demoman. Demoman had been playful last week and gave a mini strip tease while they were getting dressed for the daily battles. Some part, some tiny, insignificant part in Soldier’s foggy brain, somehow remembered that several minutes and was attempting to re-enact it.

 

“A-Alright, lad,” Demoman said quietly, eye shifting nervously around the room, “That’s very, uh, _nice_ , but… let’s go somewhere more private?”

 

“No!” Soldier barked as he was beginning to kick off his boots, “’m gonna do thish for you!”

 

Now this got the attention of Heavy and Medic, as well as Pyro, who had been working on their drawings on the floor near the radio. Heavy and Medic gave Demoman funny, yet concerned, looks over Soldier’s “performance” in front of them, a bit confused at what he was trying to do. Demoman shrugged and turned his gaze back at Soldier so he didn’t yell again and alert the card game players.

 

Soldier hopped out of his other boot and threw them off to the floor in random directions. He nearly fell as he hopped on one foot for a moment, and Demoman brought his arms out to catch his fall. When he saved Soldier in the nick of time, he let out the breath he was holding. However, the relief was short lived, as Soldier was now fumbling with his belt.

 

Medic gave Demoman a silent look which could only be described as, _‘What the fuck are you letting him do?’_ Heavy looked equally as confused and worried but seemed more worried about the high chance of Soldier toppling over. There was a throw rug underneath him, but it was old and thin- not nearly soft enough to cushion a fall.

 

“Uh, Jane… please,” Demoman quietly pleaded, “Not now. The guys’re starin’.”

 

“I dun’t _care_ what these shishies think,” Soldier whined, continuing his performance despite Demoman’s obvious anxiety.

 

Demoman crossed his legs as he prayed to whatever deity was up there that his dick didn’t hear the slurred, sultry voice Soldier was using. Heavy had now gotten up to talk to Pyro, so they didn’t have to see what was going on. He knelt on the floor to discuss the artistic integrity behind a purple crayon rendition of the base, blocking Pyro’s view of Soldier with his body. At least someone was on Demoman’s side in this.

 

The game was still running smoothly as the four kept their eyes only on the flow of the cards. Engineer and Spy were locked in states of extreme concentration, while Scout and Sniper were switching their eyes back and forth from the other two. This bought Demoman a little more time to get Soldier out of the rec room before he was completely naked.

 

The only problem was that Soldier had his pants now bunched up at one of his angles and was laughing to himself as he tried to get a grip on his boxers.

 

“ _Stop!_ ” Demoman hissed in the quietest yell he could manage, grabbing Soldier’s hand and standing to his feet. The sudden action caught the drunken Soldier completely off-guard. They just stared at each other for a while as Medic covered his mouth in shock. Soldier did stop trying to paw at his boxers and blinked a few times.

 

Then in a matter of seconds, he went from a dry and very confused face to a steady stream of tears pouring down his face. Heavy could no longer distract Pyro as they both took notice of Soldier crying and Demoman looking more scared than he’s every been in his life.

 

” _Ha!_ In yer thin face, Spah!” Engineer exclaimed from the card table as he slammed down his hand.

 

“ARE YOU SHAYING YOU DUN’T LOVE ME ANYMORE, MAGGOT?!”

 

Engineer stopped mid-celebration as he, along with the entire card table, now saw what was going on. Demoman was genuinely ready to die. Everyone was now judging him, and God knows what the ones who are just now tuning in are thinking. Probably assuming Demoman had tried to take advantage of a severely intoxicated person, no doubt.

 

Scout was the first to break the silence, beyond Soldier’s sniffling. “Uh…” he asked, “Why’s Solly naked and sobbing…? Did we miss somethin’?”

 

“I shought what we had was special!” Soldier blubbered, wiping his eyes with his meaty paw, “I j-just wanted to make you happy, and you dun’t love meee.”

 

It was obvious the four at the table were trying to hold back their laughter, and Medic definitely was biting his lip to keep the sounds down behind his fist. The stares were all digging under Demoman’s skin and he felt like he was the one who was truly naked now. God, why couldn’t he have been drunk, too? He had forgotten that alcohol was the one thing that kept his self-loathing and anxieties at bay. Now they were all flooding in, and Demoman was ready to bolt out of the base and live among the wilderness.

 

That is, until Heavy stepped in front of the pair between them and the card table crew.

 

“Forgive me, I must have wrong team,” Heavy said, voice booming, “Is this team of _men_ , or bunch of little laughing children?” No one dared to talk back to Heavy, even Medic, as their collective faces went pale. “Can name many times when you all have acted stupid when had too many drinks. This man is clearly very confused and upset, and you all think this is joke? Give him some dignity, or I will _make_ all of you give it!”

 

If both he and Heavy weren’t in committed relationships, Demoman could kiss Heavy right now. As all eyes were focused on Heavy, Demoman scooped up Soldier’s clothes and draped the wrinkled red shirt over Soldier’s shoulders. He guided Soldier out, and Heavy soon followed, but not without giving everyone in the rec room soul-piercing glares on the way out the door.

 

Once they were in the safety of the hallway, Demoman let out a long sigh and turned to Heavy. Just like that, Heavy’s anger had melted, and he showed genuine concern for Soldier as he assisted in steadying the swaying man.

 

“Oh Mary,” Demoman said, “How’d ye _do_ that, an’ teach it to me now.”

 

“I grow up with three little sisters,” Heavy replied calmly, “Need to be firm sometimes.” He seemingly produced the tiny waste bin from the rec room and shoved it into Demoman’s hands. Must have been picked up on the way out while Demoman was focusing on transporting Soldier. “You may need this.”

 

“Uh… why?”

 

“ _Now_!”

 

Demoman had barely made it in time to holding the garbage bin in front of Soldier, who vomited profusely into it. The act took a lot of energy out of Soldier’s already worn-out body; Heavy had to be quick to shove his hands under Soldier’s arm pits to keep him from collapsing. Demoman blinked at how quickly those events had transpired as Soldier was coughing up the last bits of spit from his throat. He honestly wondered if Heavy was a psychic sometimes.

 

“Uh, thanks,” Demoman muttered, “Lemme go tuck ‘im in and I’ll throw this out.”

 

“нет,” Heavy replied, taking the waste bin and the bag inside it back, “I can do it. Make sure he goes to sleep; it is dangerous if he goes wandering in night. Too many dangers on base.”

 

“A-Aye.” Demoman slung Soldier’s arm around his shoulders and used a bit of Soldier’s shirt to wipe the corner of his mouth. “Heavy, er… why’re ye doin’ this fer me? It’s Jane’s own fault he’s piss drunk, right?”

 

Heavy thought about it for a moment, glancing up at the fluorescent lights that were very close to bumping his head. “Soldier doesn’t always think first,” he replied, “But he is still member of team- of _family_. Plus, he is lucky to have you.”

 

Before Demoman could even think of a response to that profoundly deep comment, Heavy was going down the opposite end of the hall to dispose of the toxic waste Soldier produced. Demoman smiled to himself; he felt silly for doubting a doctor.

 

“Alright, Jane,” he said, pressing a kiss to Soldier’s temple and beginning to walk with Soldier back to his quarters, “Let’s get ye into bed.”

 

No matter how long Demoman would have to stay up to make sure Soldier went to bed, he knew that he couldn’t wait to tease Soldier about his failed strip tease the next morning (after caring for his hangover, of course).


End file.
